I thought I was raising children...
Wednesday, September 18, 2013
Monday, September 16, 2013
No Capes!
"Mom, did you know ghosts FLY?" Boyo asked me the other day.
"Really?" I asked, feigning surprise.
"Uh-HUH! And they don't even use jet packs!"
"WOW! What do they use?"
"CAPES!"
To which Girlie injected herself into the conversation -- "NO CAPES! Capes get caught in plane engines and turn you into blood and feathers!"
"Really?" I asked, feigning surprise.
"Uh-HUH! And they don't even use jet packs!"
"WOW! What do they use?"
"CAPES!"
To which Girlie injected herself into the conversation -- "NO CAPES! Capes get caught in plane engines and turn you into blood and feathers!"
Friday, September 13, 2013
Hogging God
"Mommy, why is God invisible?" Boyo asked me this the other day, as we were driving to his new school for Back To School Night.
"Uh... so He can be with us all the time," I said, thinking quickly. I know. I don't know what I was talking about either.
"Cuz if we see Him other people might think He is not there," Boyo concluded.
"Uh... exactly."
"I think He's invisible so He can go to my new school."
"Okay," I said, wondering where this was coming from. "Do you want God to go to your new school?"
"Yeah," Boyo said. "So I'll have a friend in my class on the first day."
And at that point, my heart shattered.
Boyo has started at a new school every year of his short academic career. Part of that is because of the move and part of that is because his Daddy and I chose a school that was not a great fit for him last year. So while I have convinced myself that he will be okay starting at a new school -- because he knows nothing different -- he managed to make it crystal clear that it might not be okay.
"Are you nervous about a new school?" I asked him.
"No. God is going to my new school. And there is a playground there just for God."
"There is?" I asked not sure what a playground has to do with starting a new school and God.
"Uh huh," Boyo said matter of factly, "It's little and in the back. And it's only for God. But He said I could go there and play with Him if I was lonely."
"That's really nice of God," I said, chuckling to myself as I realized that Boyo was describing the 3 year old playground in the back of the school.
"And He's invisible so that the other kids don't get greedy."
"Get greedy?"
"Uh huh. When you are greedy, you hog God."
My 4 year old son just managed to explain faith in a way that 12 years of catholic education couldn't.
"Uh... so He can be with us all the time," I said, thinking quickly. I know. I don't know what I was talking about either.
"Cuz if we see Him other people might think He is not there," Boyo concluded.
"Uh... exactly."
"I think He's invisible so He can go to my new school."
"Okay," I said, wondering where this was coming from. "Do you want God to go to your new school?"
"Yeah," Boyo said. "So I'll have a friend in my class on the first day."
And at that point, my heart shattered.
Boyo has started at a new school every year of his short academic career. Part of that is because of the move and part of that is because his Daddy and I chose a school that was not a great fit for him last year. So while I have convinced myself that he will be okay starting at a new school -- because he knows nothing different -- he managed to make it crystal clear that it might not be okay.
"Are you nervous about a new school?" I asked him.
"No. God is going to my new school. And there is a playground there just for God."
"There is?" I asked not sure what a playground has to do with starting a new school and God.
"Uh huh," Boyo said matter of factly, "It's little and in the back. And it's only for God. But He said I could go there and play with Him if I was lonely."
"That's really nice of God," I said, chuckling to myself as I realized that Boyo was describing the 3 year old playground in the back of the school.
"And He's invisible so that the other kids don't get greedy."
"Get greedy?"
"Uh huh. When you are greedy, you hog God."
My 4 year old son just managed to explain faith in a way that 12 years of catholic education couldn't.
Wednesday, September 11, 2013
Monday, September 9, 2013
First Grade Fears
Who doesn't have them?
My daughter, for one. Me, though? I'm a mess.
Girlie starts first grade tomorrow. She is going from a class of 8 to a class of 32. She has not been on a tour of the school. She has not seen her classroom. She found out the name of her teacher today.
And she's perfectly fine with all of that.
She has her first day of school outfit laid out, right down to the matching earrings.
She is excited and nervous all at the same time.
However, I'm bloody terrified.
Why?
Because my sweet little girl is going out into a big, scary public school. I went to private school from 2-12 grade -- I have no idea what a public school is made of. But I know my Girlie.
And I know that she is a quiet type -- a mothering, old soul who is more comfortable with babies and adults than kiddos her own age. She has friends her own age, but she prefers to play by herself or with her little sister when we go to the park.
She is not the class clown, the extrovert, the outgoing one.
Right now, she is sweet, and innocent, and calm. She is artistic and a thinker. Her world is black and white and small. And tomorrow it is going to get very, very big.
I vividly remember being in first grade and having no friends. Of sobbing hysterically in the middle of the playground. Of being picked on and teased. Of being called "Baby."
That's probably why I'm so scared for Girlie to start first grade.
But I have to be brave and strong and try to keep my fears from projecting onto her, so that she will continue to be excited and nervous at the same time.
I poured all of this out to my husband last week -- sobbing as I told him how scared I was for her and that I was certain school was going to be horrible and what were we thinking sending her to public school and that we are making the worst mistake ever and we are going to ruin her forever because of this.
He listened. And then he asked, "Do you think about your first grade experience every day?"
"Don't be ridiculous," I sniffed. "I only remembered because Girlie is starting.... shut up. I'm not talking to you anymore."
He laughed and gave me a hug. "She's going to be fine. And I hope it is a little hard for her, so she can grow from it."
Intellectually, I understand my husband's point.
Emotionally, I think it's crap. As a mother, I don't want anything to be hard for my children. I want to protect them and their innocence as long as possible.
And then the next day I read this article on my friend's Facebook wall -- "It's Not a 'Problem.' It's Called Being A Child".
And I realized the author - and my husband -- was right. I can't protect her forever as much as I want to. Girlie's world is going to grow, and she needs to grow with it.
That doesn't mean I have to like it.
My daughter, for one. Me, though? I'm a mess.
Girlie starts first grade tomorrow. She is going from a class of 8 to a class of 32. She has not been on a tour of the school. She has not seen her classroom. She found out the name of her teacher today.
And she's perfectly fine with all of that.
She has her first day of school outfit laid out, right down to the matching earrings.
She is excited and nervous all at the same time.
However, I'm bloody terrified.
Why?
Because my sweet little girl is going out into a big, scary public school. I went to private school from 2-12 grade -- I have no idea what a public school is made of. But I know my Girlie.
And I know that she is a quiet type -- a mothering, old soul who is more comfortable with babies and adults than kiddos her own age. She has friends her own age, but she prefers to play by herself or with her little sister when we go to the park.
She is not the class clown, the extrovert, the outgoing one.
Right now, she is sweet, and innocent, and calm. She is artistic and a thinker. Her world is black and white and small. And tomorrow it is going to get very, very big.
I vividly remember being in first grade and having no friends. Of sobbing hysterically in the middle of the playground. Of being picked on and teased. Of being called "Baby."
That's probably why I'm so scared for Girlie to start first grade.
But I have to be brave and strong and try to keep my fears from projecting onto her, so that she will continue to be excited and nervous at the same time.
I poured all of this out to my husband last week -- sobbing as I told him how scared I was for her and that I was certain school was going to be horrible and what were we thinking sending her to public school and that we are making the worst mistake ever and we are going to ruin her forever because of this.
He listened. And then he asked, "Do you think about your first grade experience every day?"
"Don't be ridiculous," I sniffed. "I only remembered because Girlie is starting.... shut up. I'm not talking to you anymore."
He laughed and gave me a hug. "She's going to be fine. And I hope it is a little hard for her, so she can grow from it."
Intellectually, I understand my husband's point.
Emotionally, I think it's crap. As a mother, I don't want anything to be hard for my children. I want to protect them and their innocence as long as possible.
And then the next day I read this article on my friend's Facebook wall -- "It's Not a 'Problem.' It's Called Being A Child".
And I realized the author - and my husband -- was right. I can't protect her forever as much as I want to. Girlie's world is going to grow, and she needs to grow with it.
That doesn't mean I have to like it.
Friday, September 6, 2013
Trapping Bad Guys. And Santa
My children are very worried about bad guys breaking in.
So they devised traps for them using scarves, belts, and furniture.
There is the:
~Toe boo boo limbo -- leaving their toys in the middle of the room so the bad guys would stub their toes.
~ The Tripper Ipper Dipper -- tying a lot of scarves around the room.
~ Finger Slammer Bammer -- a belt tied around the doorknob to slam the door.
~Knee Dee Banger Eee -- A yo yo tied to the baby's swing. I don't get it either.
And when they were done?
Boyo said, "We can use these to trap Santa too!"
Wednesday, September 4, 2013
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